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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

NOT to be confused, dearest reader, with the things. Completely different.

So there are some exciting and not so exciting things coming up for me.

Exciting thing number one: I'm going back down the shore for a dayish maybe two. Which means there are only two significant words in my vocabulary now: BEACH NAPS. I partake in the casual everyday nap, but there's just some magical beauty of a beach nap that no other nap can touch. Whether it's the warm press of sun against exposed skin, the calming crash of waves that surrounds you, the gentle cry of seagulls to add subtle change, or the soft sand beneath you, they just are so much better. This is especially true if you have spent the entire day at the beach actually doing things, like going in the water or walking along the shore or tackling people into the sand that you don't really know all too well, but they were asking for it.

No matter what the reason, by the end of a few hours in the sun, I am inexplicably tired as hell. And I've realized that the above reasons somehow turn my at least twenty minute nap into the REM excursion of a life time. You wake up more refreshed, more calm, more amiable. Prior to beach naps, I'm not gonna lie, on some days, I'm just bitchy. The sun's too oppressive, the water's too cold to adjust to, let alone filled with seaweed and sharp shells, the wind is blowing too hard, leading to sand storms and I likely got mild to moderate sun burn on my nose or lips.

It's rough. And that's being nice. Now by this time my brain has already weighed the pros and cons of staying at the beach. Recently, however, instead of just signaling to my vocal chords to express the need to go home, my brain has reconsidered. Now, all I hear is "nap time" and I'm quite positive nothing could ruin it. I realize that reason in itself means someone/something is bound to ruin it, but I'm gonna risk it until that happens.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Hey guys. So. Have you ever had one of those days? You know, the good kind? Because, on a side serious note, there are the bad kinds of "those days", particularly referenced to by "one of those days".

ANYWAYS, but I'm like having one of those good days. And I mean GOOD. And it's totally only like 1 am. But I'm quite confident today is going to be phenomenal.

But then again, that just may be the promise of seeing Adam Rodriguez shirtless. HE'S SO HOT.

I don't know. I think I've just been thinking too much about Octodad and how well things are going.

I'm going to fill you guys in on a secret that I probably shouldn't put on the interwebz for all to see. Especially Octodad. Because I haven't told him yet.

I'm pregnant.

JUST KIDDING that'd be awful. Unless I'm pregnant with a migrainous pain baby. In which case, I'm approximately 14 months overdue. Sweet.

Anyways. No. Seriously this time.

My feelings this time around are a hell of a lot different than they were last year. I just...I don't know. Last time I still really liked him, and I never stopped liking him.

But I guess that was the thing. I only liked him. I guess that's why I was confused when the break up went so poorly.

Which given the definition of a break up, was supremely ignorant of me.

But I digress.

So, yeah. I just. Last year, as you all know, was probably the worst year of my life. Everything was just everywhere and I was caught in this maelstrom of awfulness. And then I met Octodad.

And I didn't care how many times I had told myself that there was no room at all for anyone in my life. Hell, there was barely room for me. And it's not like I forgot that there was this tidal wave of pain and hell going on in my life, because let's be honest, you can't just drop that on a dime. I knew all too well of my situation.

But then there was this absolute revelation. And it was him.

And I honest to God, really really hate myself for saying it. But it's true.

Let me tell you something guys. And you damn well better listen up.

You will meet somebody, somewhere, someday. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. It doesn't matter. You will meet them. And something will happen. You will hear the click. The physical sound as the cogs mesh together in unity. Your conversation will flow easily. You laughter will be genuine. You will leave your interaction wondering what exactly just happened, with a smile. You will think about this person. You will be elated when you begin to see this person on a daily basis.

And maybe you guys start to talk. And then you call each other. And then you start going out. And everything is amazing. But your stupid freaking condition interferes. No, not the medical one.

Your stupid psychological issue with human emotion and physical proximity/action with other living beings. And you freak out. And you let your brain think too much. And you kind of shove your heart to the side. And you ruin everything. And then you break up with the most amazing boy in the entire world on Valentine's Day over text message. Because you're an absolute monster. And you think it's cool if you guys just still be friends.

NO NO NO NO NO ladies, stop it. STOP asking guys to be friends with you when you break up with them. Because guess what? They may have been in love with you. And to go from their ideal infatuation to their friend is like being engaged to someone and having them say the day of the wedding, "yeah, um this isn't working out. but we can still be friends, right?" But you'd be okay with that, right? Yeah, that's what I thought.

With careful revision, I immediately realized that I'd made the biggest mistake in the world. But I thought I was smart in realizing that I couldn't just take it all back. In looking back, I really should have gone back to him and talked it all out.

But guess what? That wasn't my state of mind. Because it was stressful. I was barely keeping up with friendships. How was I ever going to keep up a relationship? I wasn't. I would never have been able to. Not then. Just...no.

But guess what else? Decisions have consequences. And I missed the hell out of him and everything we were when I was at the lowest point in my current life. When I was homebound schooled and utterly alone and distant, just an arms length away from the real world, stuck on the outside looking in. And I cried. A lot.

And I was depressed. Legitimately diagnosed and on an antidepressant which made my weight fluctuate which was the last thing I needed at the moment. In too much pain to do much of anything, I was lost. And there was no light at the end to look forward to. No one that was going to hold me up and help me through.

I had literally fucked myself over. And I did nothing to fix it.

Now you must be thinking, "wow, this is quite the post for someone in a supposed good mood"

DON'T QUESTION ME.

I'm getting there,

You'd be right any other time. But this actually is exactly the post to make in a good mood. When this can't bring me down from my happiness. Because guess what? That stupid phrase you alway hear "Distance makes the heart grow fonder", it's true.

No matter where I went, I was constantly reminded of Octodad somehow. Even in Canada. CANADA.

That's how I knew. I really screwed up. And I needed to fix it. There would be a text every now and then. But then it all started happening again. The cogs meshed like a well oiled machine. Like it hadn't missed a step. Like we hadn't missed a step.

And here we are. This amazing place that I hadn't even known existed, let alone that I'd ever be there. And it was worth every misstep, every problem.

About Me

I am Jess. I am 19. I am awkward. That is pretty much all you need to know. I am also funny. That is also important. I also normally use contractions most of the time, usually when they combine to make words that are not words.